


Voyageurs

by sloganeer



Series: kaná:ta' still means "town" in Mohawk [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Canadian Character, Canon Queer Character, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23488837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: “You know how much I love walking,” David says, bumping their hips together as he rejoins Patrick behind the counter.“I do,” he says. “I do know that.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: kaná:ta' still means "town" in Mohawk [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686322
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	Voyageurs

“Do we have plans for Monday?” David asks. He’s doing his mid-afternoon check, when he walks the floor from the entrance to the register, turning labels outwards, filling gaps, while also re-thinking the entire store layout in his head.

Patrick stands behind the counter and watches the performance. This is David in his milieu, and nothing makes Patrick happier than seeing David revel in his whole self—even when it means a few days of manual labour for himself before David is satisfied with the shop again.

“We don’t have plans.” Monday is the one day they close the store. It’s usually spent at home, but as they get closer to spring, Patrick tries harder to get them outside. “We could have plans. The weather looks nice; maybe a drive to the Point for a walk?”

David hums his disapproval, face scrunched up to his eyebrows. Patrick bites his tongue.

“You know how much I love walking,” David says, bumping their hips together as he rejoins Patrick behind the counter.

“I do,” he says. “I do know that.”

“It’s just that I ran into Jake at the Café on Thursday,” David explains, sweeping the lip balms away from the edge to reorganise the flavours to his preference. “And he told me about an interesting new venture.”

“A sex venture?”

“Ew, Patrick, no.” He swats blindly at Patrick’s shoulder. “He’s partnered with those bros who have that giant truck, the one with the weird motorcycles in the back?”

“They’re called ski-doos,” Patrick explains.

Snorting, David says, “And you thought Rose Apothecary was a terrible name for a business.”

“No, I mean, the weird motorcycle.” He shakes his head. “I mean, the snowmobile. It’s called a ski-doo.” 

“Whatever,” David says, waving his hand around, like he knows how much Patrick enjoys watching those rings flash. “Jake says they want to do canoe tours now, so he actually made them a canoe.”

That gets Patrick’s attention. “Like, he carved them a canoe? From a whole tree?”

“It’s really not that surprising. If Jake has any redeeming quality, it’s an abundance of energy. He just needs a little…” A sexy smirk makes David’s eyebrows dance. “Guidance,” he says, back against their front counter. 

“A day off?” Patrick asks, stepping one leg between David’s thighs. “Me and you and Jake’s canoe?” he asks.

David says, “You’re not as funny as you think you are,” but he still lets Patrick kiss him. He still lets Patrick’s hands up under his sweatshirt and below his waistband. 

“OK, OK.” They have to stop eventually. “We’re on a nice three month streak of Roland not catching us making out in the store. Let’s not tempt fate.” David rubs his hands down Patrick’s arms, and Patrick agrees. He takes a step back, and then a side step to try and rearrange some things.

“Patience,” his husband murmurs. “You ever had sex in a canoe?”

“The last time I was in a canoe was Scout camp.”

“The question stands, Patrick.”

He reaches into the back room for his water bottle. He’s safe in there, away from David’s leering eyes. 

“Have you ever had sex in a canoe?” Patrick asks.

David shakes his head. “Does a gondola count? Of course, it wasn’t in the water at the time, but I did get to keep the scarf.”

Chucking, Patrick says, “I hope you don’t need me to wear a beaver pelt.”

“I don’t, nope, thank you very much.” 

“But you will need me to paddle, I assume.”

David’s hands float towards Patrick’s arms again, settling on his biceps, just above his folded sleeves. They both like David’s hands there. 

“Neither of us wants you to skip arm day, honey.”


End file.
